Something Else
by Swamy
Summary: Damon and Bonnie's friendship through Elena's eyes.
1. Chapter 1

**Note:** If you are a fan of Elena's character and her relationship with Damon you might not like this story. I'' thank you if you decide to give it a try and I'll understand if you don't. Just please be respectful and have the sense to stay away if it's not your cup of tea.

If you're a bamon fan please bear in mind that there's quite a lot of delena in this fanfiction since they are the main couple of the story (or not, probably), still I hope you give it a try, I think you might enjoy it.

This story is based on Elena's line "_She's my best friend, but to you she's something else, isn't she?_ ". The song mentioned at the end is "Lovefool" by The Cardigans.

#

Lightheaded with relief and a feeling that's horribly similar to happiness – only he never knew it could be this clean, this unadulterated – this is how Damon feels. It's so overwhelming that he can barely move from the spot where Bonnie has - to everyone's dismay - thrown herself into his arms. The impact of her petite body and her honey scent still lingering about him.

He grins, watching as she's surrounded by her friends who won't let her finish a sentence without pulling her into embarrassing embraces. The childish part of him chants in his head because she hugged him _first_; while everyone else had to pull at her, she'd extracted herself and run to him.

Damon is so intent in watching her that he doesn't see Elena approaching, and when she calls his name he's surprised to see her right in front of him, a sweet, loving smile on her face – reward for his good behavior – and he hums his reply, before she takes his face into her hands to kiss him.

He smiles before returning the kiss and pulling Elena into a light embrace. Over her shoulder he can see Bonnie smiling at him, brightly so. Somehow it reminds him of her smile in that hole where they waited for the eclipse, where there seemed to be no light but her – hope and forgiveness radiating and lightening her up from the inside.

It is a good day, he thinks rubbing one hand in the middle of Elena's back. Bonnie is safe and sound and back in her rightful place, and Elena is there, too.

#

Elena's hand slides against the back of his fingers, up to his wrist and caresses his arm. His smile is tired but content and she feels her heart warming up. She can see now what cracked her defenses, how he could slip into her heart and control it so radically that his departure had wrecked her.

The thought is scary but in an exciting way – the love that _consumes_ and _destroys _and that she had once wished for is as much a temptation now that it was before, and she doesn't want to be reasonable or prudent. Life is short even for those that are immortal, it seems, and she doesn't want to wonder anymore how it would feel to be loved by Damon. How it would feel to be the only one is his eyes and his heart and his world. Be the sun that rises and sets and the very breath of him.

"Where are we?" he asks, watching her hand sliding on his chest. Their relationship has been undefined up to now and it's only right for him to get an update from the only person that can actually provide one.

"On your couch," she replies with a grin. They are at the beginning of everything, she thinks. It's a new beginning, and she wants to rush to the end only to start again, and so she kisses him. Their mouths are hard against each others'. She can smell the scent of his skin mixed with his cologne and sweetened by a note of honey.

His hands go to her waist but the touch is barely there and he pulls back with a groan.

"Alcohol," he explains, grimacing, "Blondie is waiting for the supplies for the party. And I'm in charge, it seems."

She frowns but doesn't protest much. "Now?" she asks, her hands sliding up his shoulders to keep him there, maybe tempt him if she feels like it. "I don't know why but I highly doubt you are short on alcohol."

The party for Bonnie's return won't have that many guests after all, even if Caroline is treating the matter like it's a national holiday.

"As a matter of fact, I'm not," he confirms, "But Bonnie has grown a taste for _blackberry vodka sangria. _I can't blame her, I mean, I make the best drinks so of course she loves it, but I'm out of blackberries. And vodka. And sangria too, actually."

The drink is a little too summer-oriented for that time of the year but she jumped from May to January and skipped twenty years or so, so he can't hold it against her. She can have anything she wants.

Elena blinks and chuckles, as he stands from the couch, "So you're going grocery shopping, now?"

This side of him makes her feel more and more certain of the decision she's made. Going back to him will make her completely happy.

"You can manage a few hours without me, can't you?" He turns as he reaches the doorstep. "You'll remember who I am when I come back, right? Should I leave you a note and a picture?" he asks sarcastically, shooting a grin her way.

She gives him a reproachful look but still smiles as he goes.

#

Elena is punctual and ready to party. Stefan stays back as Caroline pulls her into the room. She gets a nod from him and a greeting from Matt.

Jeremy is scowling into a glass of orange juice and she nudges his side to shake a smile out of him. The smile is thin and tired but she can work with that. She's excited, fueled with that charged-up sensation similar to the free fall from a _drop tower. _She's happy – she's falling in love – and nothing could ruin this moment for her.

"Is that the best you can do?" she asks, with a smile, waiting for him to curve his mouth, too.

It is easy to find the good around you when you feel good inside. Right now she can overlook her brother's mood and inclination to addiction – be it drugs, sex, or alcohol – and she can overlook the tension between Caroline and Stefan and that constant staring he does like he's digging a hole into her to find something to hold on to, and she can overlook Matt's distance.

She's happy, and Bonnie is back, so she doesn't need to feel guilty for wanting to live as hard as she can, because now Bonnie can, too.

"Where is Damon?" she asks, turning to Caroline who is offering her a bottle of beer she has just opened.

"In the kitchen. I think you should buy him an apron for your anniversary," she comments incredulously.

Elena giggles her reply, "I think that would be perfect. Thank you for the suggestion," before leaving the room to join him as someone knocks on the front door.

Her step is light, she wants to observe him first as he moves about the kitchen, whisper to him and see his face lighting up as he sees her, but there are voices in the kitchen and even though they didn't see her she's the one surprised by the scene.

"I don't think you're doing it right," Bonnie says, bending over the pan.

"Ha! We'll see," he replies, "Out of my way," he warns her in a murmur, taking the pot from the cooker to pour the blackberries through a strainer so she won't get burned. "I'll have you eating those words," he announces, "And curling your toes."

"Right," she says dryly, walking around the island and having him bend towards her face.

"You're going to love it, and you know it," he says back, pointing at her with the spoon, which he's using to filter the blackberries through the strainer and catch all the chunks of fruit left. "And when you beg me to make it again, I will refuse, adamantly, thinking back on the little faith you showed me in such a delicate moment."

"Sorry I didn't make banners of support," she says, titling her head to the side and crossing her arms over her breasts.

"Sorry won't make it," he tells her, shaking his head _no_. He takes the bottle on his right to add wine to the blackberry syrup. Bonnie turns around and without looking up he reaches out his hand as she passes him a blue bottle of blackberry vodka, and that's when Elena is spotted.

Bonnie sees her first, and she smiles at her, "Elena, you're here," and she walks over her to hug her.

He lifts his eyes, offers her a wink and a "Hey there," and goes back to his mixing. Bonnie pulls her into the room as Damon fills a pitcher with reddish drink. She sits on a stool and Elena follows her. "I'm trying to catch up with all I've missed, so you have to tell me everything you did while I was away," she says reaching out to take her hands. Her enthusiasm matches what she was feeling only a minute ago, before it became suddenly blurry for God knows what reason.

Elena offers her friend a smile and she squeezes her hands back, "Well—"

"My work of art is ready," Damon announces and she turns to see him push a glass in Bonnie's direction, decorated with orange and lime slices and a single blackberry mixed with ice.

"You ruined a moment," Bonnie sighs, leering at him.

"Yeah, yeah," he says, waving a hand in her direction, "Try and say that after tasting it," and again, what Elena gets as Bonnie drinks is a wink before he goes back to look at her friend.

But it's Bonnie's party and it's only right for her to get a little attention. She can manage that, Elena thinks smiling. Yes, of course she can.

#

Elena wakes up to find herself engulfed in the warmth of Damon's sheets. She smiles and arches her back, rolling to his side to brush her cheek on his naked chest and hear the reaction of his dead heart coming back to life to race towards her, but all she finds is the lingering scent of him – a vague note of honey underneath the musk.

She opens her eyes to find him pulling up his pants. "Hi, undead sleeping beauty," he greets her, taking a step towards the bed to bend over and press a short kiss against her mouth.

"Where are you going?" she purrs, pulling herself up, her breast in sight as she moves into a very suggestive pose. "I didn't finish with you, yet," she adds biting her lower lip.

"Tempting," he says, turning to take his shirt before looking at her again, "But I gotta go. Baddies are at our door, the world is about to end, yada yada."

"I think the world can manage without you for another hour. I, on the other hand…" she doesn't finish her sentence. There's no need to draw it out for him. Again, he smiles at her and keeps getting dressed.

"Stefan has informed me that our resident witch is going to snoop into the lion's den. Someone needs to back her up."

It's reasonable and right but she doesn't see why he should be the one to back her up.

"Can't Stefan do that?" she asks, pulling the sheet around her. It's suddenly too cold to bear, "And Bonnie is not exactly a damsel in distress, you know."

"Don't let her hear you calling her that," he warns her, amused by the mere thought. "Stefan offered to, actually, but I don't want my clumsy little brother to waste all my effort in bringing her back to the land of the living," he explains, like there's any chance of that at all, like Stefan is not the reliable, sacrificial person he is. But Damon doesn't delegate anything that concerns Bonnie, and it's nothing new so she can't tell herself why it bothers her this time. She can hardly admit to herself it bothers her, let alone find a good excuse for it.

"She could have asked me, but _no_," he goes on about her "God forbid she asks for help. I swear, one of these days I'll just put a collar with a bell on her and-"

Still, her frown interrupts his rambling and slows him down. "Tonight I'll make you dinner…" he promises, "And a lot of other good things," he adds, raising his eyebrows, suggestively.

She smiles at him, catches him by the shirt to pull him down on top of her. He kisses her, squeezes one breast and pulls away to disappear out the door with a "See you later!"

#

She arrives as Stefan is leaving.

He offers her a few gentle words, complimenting her beauty, and he holds the door for her with his usual gentlemanly manners. Elena whispers a thanks and she lingers on the doorstep to watch him leave. It's not hard to remember what made her love him so fiercely, she thinks smiling to herself, before going inside.

The air is warm and fragrant, filled with the smell of cocoa and vanilla. Elena beams wondering how he can know that the Chocolate Bundt cake is her favorite.

From where she stands she sees the table set up with candles and flowers and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket. She was so excited for their romantic date that she arrived earlier.

Elena wore a red lace skater dress with a tank-style bodice and a flared skirt detailed with rows of tonal sequins; she has let down her hair and used minimal makeup hoping to be sexy without looking like she's made an effort. She hopes he'll like it enough to decide to let his effort with dinner go to waste. She'll insist that they have to eat, then, and they will wait, and they will have a wonderful meal and an even more wonderful night.

A little scream takes her by surprise and she rushes only to finds Damon pulling Bonnie's hand under the running water of the kitchen sink.

"I told you to stay put," he scolds her, bending over her hand.

"What's going on?" she asks. She knows exactly what's happening – Bonnie has burned her fingers and Damon is helping her, simple as that, but still her stomach twists and _she doesn't understand what's happening._

Bonnie turns her head and Damon raises his to look over his shoulder, "Oh, you're early," he says.

"I was just about to go," Bonnie explains, offering her a smile, "And I didn't help him," she clarifies.

"You hardly could considering your state," he comments, shutting off the water. That's when she sees her other hand, limp by her side, all wrapped into a white bandage.

"You make it sound like I'm crippled or something," Bonnie grimaces, turning her face again to look at him.

"I could smell your burning flesh," he rebutters, "And from the look of it, you could just have a knack for that."

"I told you the Bolognese sauce was about to burn. I was just trying to help." she says rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, you helped a great deal," he reproaches her. "You know, if you wanted me to bandage your other hand for the love of symmetry you could have just asked. After all, white suits you."

"Talking to you is useless, you know that, right?" her protests are shrill and his expression challenges her to keep it up to see who's the last to give in.

It seems like it'll be a long night.

"But you're still trying. Doesn't that tell something about yourself?" he asks her with a irritating smirk.

"That I'm too good for you," she replies, clearly bothered.

"Or that you're stupid, which explains why you won't stay put when I tell you to!"

"You are such-"

Only the sound of an uncorking bottle stops them, and they both turn to see Elena pouring herself a glass of champagne.

"Please, don't let me interrupt you," she says, sarcastically, taking a sip of her drink.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Bonnie says, taking her hand away from Damon's. She hadn't even realized he was still holding it between his, "I'm leaving immediately," she says, walking around the kitchen island.

"And really, I didn't help him at all. Just a few directions and suggestions, you know, about what you like. This night is all him," Bonnie reassures her with a warm smile. It almost seems like she's proud of him, and that stuns Elena into nodding her way into this little speech.

She watches Bonnie's back as she leaves in a rush. The night is _all_ _him_, she thinks, and he is _all _about Bonnie.

Damon smiles at her and rubs his hands together, "You have no idea what is awaiting you."

Elena can feel her stomach sink a little bit.

#

Elena laughs happily along with her best friends – it's been so long since they spent some time like this, in a simple manner, laughing about stupid things, no one dying.

Damon walks around them as they sit on the couch. Bonnie's eyes are on her and she never looks at him. Damon glances their way, gives Elena a short smile, steals a glance towards Bonnie as he turns to fill his glass with bourbon. He gulps down the drink, fills the glass again and raises in their direction, "I'll leave you girls alone."

Lately Damon has spent a lot of time indulging her and Elena is giddy about how perfect her life is, and later when she joins him in his bedroom she wants nothing more than to make love to him. She hugs him from behind as he stares outside the window, glass firmly planted in his hand. He's all hard angles and white marble skin, and she wants to rub herself against him and inhale the smell of him so badly. Her hands roam over his chest, on top of his dark green shirt, tentatively opening a button with some difficulty.

"Damon," she purrs his name but he doesn't move nor react to that. It kind of cools her enthusiasm.

"What's wrong?" she asks pressing her chin to his shoulder. She wants him to talk to her, so they can put whatever it is that worries him behind their backs and entertain themselves with more pleasurable things.

"She's faking it," he says, sounding very pensive.

"What?" Elena is taken aback and confused. She doesn't know who he is talking about and she takes a step back, watching him turn to her to explain. "Bonnie is not happy, she's faking it. I don't know who she's trying to fool considering it's so obvious," he says, grimacing.

"It's not," she contradicts him, "In fact I think she's as happy as she looks," she insists, looking at him and failing to see his reasoning.

"Come on," he insists, "Have you seen her? She smiles the way people do when they have to show their teeth to the dentist. She laughs out of time and half the time she keeps her face down…" he lists, looking surprised by the second by the fact that she hasn't seen what is so clear to him. "Didn't you notice?"

The question Elena wants to ask is _why he_ _did_.

#

Elena is almost scared of his reaction when she tells him that Bonnie has a date – which is ridiculous because he has no particular reason to care about that. And yet, there's a tiny part of her whispering and making fun of her, waiting for him to get mad, go crazy. He doesn't.

He stays perfectly still, doesn't even look up from his book. She says the words and three very long seconds later he's making an "Mmm" sound like she informed him about the weather. "Great," he adds, after a few more moments.

His jaw clenches a bit and his eyes are so focused on the page, like he cares about nothing else than what he's reading about, that she can't help but smile. She likes Damon when he's focused on something. She likes him more when he's focused on her.

Elena sighs in relief, standing from the couch to let one hand travel along his shoulder and kiss his cheek before going upstairs to take a quick shower.

When she comes back in the sitting room thirty minutes later he's reading the same book, unmoved by the news. How silly of her to ever doubt his love and devotion, she thinks with a happy smile on her face.

She doesn't notice he's still stuck on the same page.

#

When he enters the room he sees Bonnie sitting on his sofa, Elena right next to her and a cup of coffee between her hands. It's coffee with sugar and whipped cream. Uh, oh.

"That coffee speaks trouble," he says waving his hand towards the cup, "And not only because all that whipped cream is going to stay on your hips forever," he adds, walking inside the room.

"Thanks for your concern about my figure," Bonnie replies with a half-hearted nasty look – now _that_ gets him worried.

"Who's dying?" he asks, looking from Elena to Bonnie and then back to Elena again.

"Everything's fine," Bonnie insists.

The witch is hushed immediately with a "Shhh. That's a mortal sin, shame on you," as Damon accuses her childishly, looking expectantly at Elena to spill it.

Bonnie has actually told her it would be better not to let Damon know and she really wants to respect her wishes, but he's already caught onto the lie and it's stupid to insist when it's all going to come out in the end. And there a petty part of her, which she doesn't want to acknowledge , that wants Damon to see Bonnie's lacking just like her boyfriend did, because despite the fact that Damon is her boyfriend sometimes she doesn't feel like his girlfriend.

"He will know, sooner or later," she tells Bonnie before looking up at Damon to explain, "Adam, the boy she was dating… he cheated on her. He left her for another girl."

From the corner of her eyes Elena sees Bonnie looking down, her eyes glossy from tears unshed and she feels her heart tightening a bit for her. Despite it all she doesn't want to see her suffer.

"I'm going to kill him," he says between his teeth, his mouth stretched into an angry smile, before he turns to leave. "I'll be back in time for dinner—"

"You're not going to kill anybody," Bonnie calls to him, dampening his enthusiasm for the mission he has just found himself. The way he turns on his heels and look at her with a disappointed expression leaves Elena perplexed. She never saw him behave like that – one word from Bonnie, not even a kind one, and he obeys like she has him tamed. It burns a little thinking that she has to make doe eyes at him, beg and manipulates to have him agree with her.

"I'll make you a necklace with his teeth, mm?" he offers, like it's an auction he wants to win.

"I'm not into jewelry," she lies, trying to sound annoyed at his proposal.

"I'll remember that for future reference."

Bonnie looks down, brushes the back of her hand under her nose and he walks in front of her to get down on knee and meet her eyes at her level. One hand on her knee for comfort.

"If you let me kill the asshole I won't even ask for a Christmas gift," he says, like a little boy promising to be good so that Santa Claus will bring him his favorite toy.

"I wasn't planning on giving you one, anyway," Bonnie informs, grimacing. Clearly his tactic hasn't worked, and still Elena's heart tightens a bit, her previous pity for Bonnie's situation forgotten entirely. She feels invisible and cut out even if she's there, sitting right next to her, her boyfriend on his knee in front of another girl.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," he accuses her with a smile lightening up his face.

Bonnie rolls her eyes, trying hard not to smile and failing.

"You are the worse," Bonnie says, annoyed and endeared. A strange combination Elena only ever saw when they were together.

"But you looove me so," Damon chants stressing the notes. Bonnie kicks at his ankle having him jump with an "Ouch!" – like that could actually hurt a vampire of his strength.

"That's ridiculous!" she protests, "And you love me more, anyway!" Bonnie yells after him as he takes the steps two at the time singing _Love me, love me, say that you love me._

Elena will never admit it – for her pride and self-esteem will not let her, for it's not fair and it's not the way it should always be, for it's not what he promised (he promised _forever_, hasn't he?) - but she fears Damon loves Bonnie more. _More than anything else_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** I've received many requests to continue this story, so I've decided to add another chapter. The story remains loyal to the purpose of showing Elena's reaction to the bamon dynamic. Once again keep in mind that it's not a delena story even if they do have a relationship, and that bamon are not right out romantic.

#

His mouth is hot and his chest is hard under the palms of her hands, her instinct is to fist the fabric of his shirt and pull him by force on top of her on the red sofa of the sitting room. He laughs against her mouth at her eagerness and she shifts her leg to rub it against his hardness. He's not ready yet but it will not take much.

His mouth travels along the curve of her neck, sucks on a point that always manages to drive her into a frenzy and her hand reaches immediately for the button on his jeans. The sound in the background doesn't even register in her brain, and she is confused to feel him pulling back.

"What?" she half moan, half whines, desperate to have him.

"My phone," he says, pushing himself back on his knees. Elena pouts at him and grabs his shirt again to pull him on top of her, "Don't. It's not important," she whispers seductively, but his hand wraps around her own and he makes her loosen her grip. "It is," he says, "It's Bonnie."

The phone rings just once more before he answers the calls, walking away from the room to answer cheerful and unaffected by the interruption. Elena pushes her hair back from her face and pulls herself into a sitting position. Her blood was rushing away from her brain just a few moments ago but that's not the only reason why she didn't realize his phone was ringing. It was because Bonnie's ring is different from all others.

She would ask him why, but she doesn't want to look bothered. She's really not.

#

Caroline was supposed to show up twenty minutes ago and she's getting impatient now. Elena pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, gives a glance to her watch, smiles at the passing waiter and looks at the door expecting her friend to push it open and walk in like she's on a runaway. She doesn't, so Elena pulls her phone out of the bag and counts the ring until her friend answers.

"Yeah?" she hears her say, voice hoarse and tone distracted. Elena is confused, "Caro, are you coming?"

Someone laughs in the background and she hears a thud and can clearly picture a pillow hitting him in the face. "Elena, I'm so sorry," she rushes to say, "I- I forgot," she explains, and in a hushed tone, which is absolutely useless when your friend is a vampire, she hisses, "Stop touching me!"

"I thought you told me the opposite just a moment ago," she can hear Stefan say, "You know I'm a gentleman, I would never deny your wishes," he says, standing from the bed only to be pulled back onto it. Elena can hear the sound of the bed springs – she wishes Caroline had changed the bed like she wanted to, because now everything is way too graphic for her.

"I'm so sorry, Elena-"

"Yeah, that's fine. We can meet tomorrow." Her mouth is closed in a thin line and she massages her temples with two fingers. The conversation can't end fast enough, and it seems like Caroline thinks the same because she can hear the sound of the interrupted line before she can finish her _goodbye_.

She left Damon to his volatile mood and it takes her a few minutes before heading back. Still, the turn of events is not too bad. Moody Damon always provides the best sex; he teases her, dominates her, and if she pushes enough she can have him with a touch of violence. She strangely likes that.

She opens the first button of her camisole as soon as she's inside the front door, smiles a predator smile thinking about the way he'll entertain her today, walks with her feline step inside the house and up the stairs once she finds the first floor empty.

Elena is almost purring when she hears Bonnie's voice.

"We shouldn't have," she sighs, sounding distressed.

"I think it's too late for that, Bon-Bon," Elena can hear her friend's nickname rolling on her boyfriend's tongue so easily that her stomach hurts. "Com'on, it's good," he says, reassuring, his voice warm, his interest clear. "Keep going… I like it."

"You do?" Her voice is uncertain, but Elena can tell that her resistance is giving way very fast. Damon has that effect on people.

"Don't think so much, you were so into it just one minute ago. I want you that focused again," he tells her with a sigh, "Uh."

"That's just because you're vain and self-centered," she reminds him with a light tone.

"Look at me, you got me a humid mess and I'm still too handsome to go unnoticed. The only thing I can possibly do is face my destiny with bravery."

"I'm touched," she replies, flat, trying to sound annoyed with his attitude.

"Oh, I'm sure," he replies, "Now use those pretty hands of yours to do your magic."

Elena is about to throw up, but not before she's witnessed the scene with her own two eyes. The betrayal burns in the middle of her chest. In her head she can hear Stefan's laugh and she shakes her head unable to clear the thought. She holds herself up with one hand on the banister and rushes towards the voices of the two lovers. It happens so fast that her brain fails at processing the scene she sees it: the door open, Damon looking at Bonnie's face through the reflection of the mirror, amused by her concentrated expression as she holds a pair of scissors in her right hand and tries to cut his hair.

"You'd think you had me on a surgery table," he says, grinning up at her though she's not looking at him. "I'm the one that should be scared. Witchy is holding a weapon over my head and I could screw up and piss her off any moment."

"That's true, so hold your tongue," she suggests, her fingers sliding up into his wet hair.

"I've been asked to do many things with my tongue. Maybe I could show-"

"Don't even finish that sentence!" Bonnie scolds him as she raises her index fingers in his direction.

The shameless flirting and the innuendo is his trademark, nothing that should shock her, but Elena's instinct tries to tells her to fear this, to fear the naturalness with which it leads back into their banter like a security blanket.

"You clip my wings," he accuses her, childishly, looking away, finally noticing her standing in the hallway.

"Hey there," he calls her, waking her from her trance, "Back already? Did you suddenly realize how boring Blondie is?" he asks without waiting for an answer. "Bonnie thought my hair was too long. _I_ think there's no way anyone can make me stunning-er but I decided to let her try."

"That's not even a word, Damon," Bonnie tells him, rolling her eyes.

"Have you seen me?" he asks, "Clearly it should be a word. I don't see any other way to describe me."

"Aside from conceited, narcissistic, and cocky?" she asks, grinning at him though the mirror.

"Those work too, I suppose," he answers.

Their exchange has a certain rhythm. It works the same way a comic routine does. Or a love song, Elena realizes. And once again she feels like throwing up.

#

She can smell the scent of his skin, the bourbon and the musk filling the air and reaching her nostrils because of the vapor coming from the shower through the open door of the bathroom. It reminds her that he's there, with her, and that they've worshipped each other's body in the unmade bed behind her and she shivers at the memory of the pleasure he gave her.

She's in love and so she's stupidly insecure sometimes. She's still too young and too lucky to know any better, but the memories Bonnie returned to her gave her a new strength, a new certainty. Damon's always loved her and always will.

Elena smiles, glancing towards the open door, already missing his presence, his arms wrapped around her, the smell of his skin all over hers, so she stands from her dressing table, putting down the hairbrush and goes to open one of Damon's drawers. She caresses the fabric of his shirts with one hand, happily choosing a piece of clothing to wear herself. It's another way to have him over her, one way like another to remind him that they belong together. He'll see her wearing nothing else but his shirt and he'll decide to return her the favor by reminding her too, with his mouth, and his tongue, and his hands and—

One particular item stands out through the dark, intense colors he usually wears, it's a white sweater with a v-neck. She pulls it out and lets it hang in front of her, the size so petite it wouldn't even fit her properly. It really doesn't take a genius to figure out who it belongs to. There's still a hint of Bonnie's favorite perfume on it and she's ready to tear it to shreds when he walks out the bathroom, messing his wet, black hair with one hand while a towel dangles with precarious stability on his hips.

Elena turns her head to him and lowers the hands that are holding up the sweater.

"Why is this in your drawer?" she asks, her voice strained with the effort it takes her to not break. He doesn't even notice, just turns on his heels and let the towel drop to his feet to slip inside his jeans uncaring of using underwear.

"She left it here a few weeks ago," he says, distracted with the hard task of choosing between a blue shirt and a dark blue shirt, "When everyone wrongly deduced that they could stay here and dirty my carpet with pizza."

"You could have told me, I would have given it back to her," she says trying her best to keep her composure. Her lips twist in a sneer despite herself, and they are face to face when he turns around. She has the distinct impression that even what he's wearing smells like Bonnie. Her stomach sinks to a new low.

"Why?" he asks, as if he's unable to understand the reason, "If she ever gets cold while she's here she can wear it and doesn't have to worry about bringing stuff over."

Elena opens her mouth to protests but he uses the opportunity to kiss her – she's not sure if it's out of love or the desire to silence her. She has no time to ask before he walks out of the bedroom saying, "I have to meet my brother. He's so head over heels with Caroline that I can barely get him to listen to me when I speak. I can't miss the chance," he explains, "It's now or never!" she hears him calling from the stairs.

Her bones are chilly when her brain betrays her and she can hear a little voice taking space in her skull, saying _Welcome to the club_.

#

"Are you angry with me?" he asks annoyed, leaning next to her against the kitchen counter. Elena gives him a patient smile as he looks at her like she's conspiring against him, "Because I don't see any other reason for the sudden urge to bore me to death with _whatever-his-name_ and my little brother in the same night."

"I'm trying to get to know the guy Bonnie is dating. It's only right that I look out for my friend," she reminds him, a little too cheerfully for his taste. "I know you want her safe, too. Now we can see for ourselves what kind of guy he is."

"I could have told you that. He's a _loser_," he growls, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his gaze when he hears Bonnie laugh.

"I actually like him," she says, conveniently forgetting she's barely exchanged two words with him and all she can't really tell if he's a mama's boy or a serial killer. Or both. What she knows is that he is perfectly attractive with ashy blonde hair and green eyes. "And what's important is that _she_ likes him."

"I thought her tastes had gotten better, clearly I was wrong," he mutters under his breath like he's offended by her choice.

"Come on," she smiles at him grabbing his arm to drag him into the sitting room with the others.

The guy, Oliver, looks over and Elena can see Damon from the corner of her eye faking – very badly – a smile. Probably to her benefit (or Bonnie's).

"Everything alright?" Oliver asks sensing trouble. He is intuitive, but not intelligent otherwise he wouldn't have asked.

"Yes, I'm delighted by the company," Damon answers offering a saccharine smile that has Bonnie rolling her eyes.

"Damon has a serious constipation problem, try not to rub it in," the witch tells her date, gaining a smirk. Stefan and Caroline don't hide their amusement but the exchange is interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

"So funny, witch" he comments starkly, grinning at the boy's reaction to what he's probably presuming to be an insult.

"That's a term of endearment, of course" he explains, eyeing her.

"Yes, it is," she nods, "If you hear me call him an ass that's a term of endearment, too," she says, sticking out her tongue.

"That's because it's the part of my anatomy that's most dear to her," he explains in a hushed tone

"Sure, man." Oliver is slightly uncomfortable with their odd conversation but he smiles nonetheless.

"Don't mind them, they get easily bored and chew each other for sport," Stefan cuts in to reassure him.

Elena is so annoyed by how useless Oliver is turning out to be that she wants tear at his jugular and see if he's good for food at least, but she controls herself; and before the temptation becomes too great, he manages to redeem himself.

"It's okay. I am like this, too, with my sister," he says, shrugging away Damon and Bonnie's intimacy. "She can be so childish, we always end up arguing on stupid things. And sometimes we argue just because it's like our duty, you know."

Damon's expression goes blank. There's a slight tension pulling at a nerve under the jaw and nothing else. Only Bonnie looks taken aback by the insinuation before she manages a tiny smile. Elena supposes she never considered him that way. She and Caroline, they have always been like sisters to Bonnie but Damon has always been too busy being her personal headache to be anything else before they went to the other side. Maybe now she will admit him into that category. It would be perfect, everyone would be happy.

When the Chinese food arrives they sit in pairs and eat their food conversing about sport and books and life in college. Damon refuses to pay attention to the new couple and chooses to nibble occasionally at her ear. Oliver's hand on Bonnie's back makes her breathe for a few minutes.

Lately, Elena realizes suddenly, she's always holding her breath. Maybe waiting for the other shoe to drop. But no, no, because Damon loves her, loves _only_ her, and tonight when everyone's gone and their clothes are forgotten somewhere he's going to show her just how much.

#

"Checkmate!" Elena can hear Bonnie gloating – as much as her weak voice lets her - on the phone as she enters the sitting room to find Damon staring at the chess board like he could set it on fire with the power of his mind.

"That's impossible," he grimaces, "You cheated, there's no other explanation" he accuses her, leaning over to stare at the pieces.

"There is actually a simple one, when we're not in the same room, and you can't put your dirty paws on the pieces, the one that plays better wins instead of the one that _cheats_ better."

The explanation makes Elena smile and she abandons her bag on the sofa before walking to Damon's back to let her hands slide over his shoulders. He's so into the conversation that he ignores it.

"I don't wanna offend your sensibilities here, but I'm going easy on you because you're sick. Clearly you've let it go to your head. I regret being so considerate," he insists, crossing his arms over his chest.

"_Riiight_," she mocks him "How could I not see that before?"

Elena walks around to sit on the chair that Bonnie would occupy if she was in the room playing, and not in their dorm.

"You're too old to be this naïve!" he says, eyes narrowing waiting for her reaction.

"You think I didn't see what you did there?" she asks, her tone insulted. "That's _The Word_, Damon. You aren't supposed to use it so carelessly" he just chuckles. Elena narrows her eyes trying to understand what they're talking about but she's in the dark.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Damon answers faking innocence.

"Whatever," she says, sighing, "I'm taking a break, you can use it to ponder your poor ability in playing fair."

"What would be the point in that? You play fair for the both of us," he protests, stretching his legs out.

"Ah! See?" she asks, jumping at his words, "You admitted that you are a cheater!"

"I did no such thing, Bon-Bon. The fever is making you talk nonsense. Poor thing," he mocks her.

"Whatever, bye," the conversation is ended quite abruptly but Damon's only reaction is to laugh, "I think I won this one, what do you say?" he asks finally looking up from the phone on speaker, which is laying next to the chess board.

"You act like a spoiled child," she accuses him, a grin playing on her lips. It's the contradiction in him that makes him so attractive, the fact that he's a brat, and then a man, and he knows gallantry and dominance.

"Of course I do, that's the basic tactic in my little game _Drive witchy crazy. _We are 1572 points for me and zero for her."

"Why do I get the feeling that she'd probably disagree on that?"

"Because I cheat," he shrugs, "Which only drives her more crazy, so in one way or another I'm the Champion," he decides, "But on the phone it's not as funny as it is to watch her face while she tries to not let on the fact that her insides are twisting because I break her _sacred_ rules," he puffs, annoyed. "She resists a prison world of perpetual loneliness, defeats a psycho serial killer and death itself only to be put down by the flu. I find that anticlimactic," he says, grimacing "She should have come over anyway."

It's the longest conversation they have had in a while, and she's too comforted by their reaffirmed capability to communicate to notice the subject that makes him so talkative.

"She felt bad, and looked terrible," Elena tells him.

"Please, I think I've seen the worst there is," he replies waving a hand in the air, "What is she supposed to do alone at the dorm for the entire week end anyway?"

"Oh, I think that she'll find someone to volunteer if she wants company," she explains with a flirty smile. "Oliver seems pretty taken."

"He didn't die yet?" he asks, grimacing, "I was counting on our track record to do the job."

"Come on," she scolds him, "He's nice, he's shamelessly attractive," the comment gains her a nasty look, "And I think Bonnie is falling for him."

He lowers his eyes, suddenly busy observing where he went wrong with the game and lost sight of his Queen, leaving the King unguarded. The conversation seems over, but she doesn't mind it. Complicity is in the silence too. She knows that because she remembers being human and feeling Stefan's voice at the bottom of her soul even when he was absent-mindedly brushing her hair with his fingers as she lay on his lap and he was silently reading a book.

"Since we have the house to ourselves we could make the most of it," she says, but he doesn't say anything so she presses him again, calling out his name.

He looks up, offers her a tired smile and declares, "There's nothing else I'd like more."

Elena decides she can cook something, set up a romantic dinner for two. She's too distracted to hear Damon talking on the phone.

"Whatever you're doing or you're about to do, _don't._ The break is over. I'll have no mercy on you."

#

She gets in Damon's Camaro and leans in to press a kiss on his lips. When she turns around Bonnie is waving her hand at them, the other one inside Oliver's as he stands at her side.

Damon barely glances at them before starting the car and have the engine growl in his place.

Bonnie and Oliver have been dating for three months now and they seem to be going strong. "I'm so glad she found someone. I think he could be the one," she says cheerfully. The corners of Damon's mouth are down as he drives. He doesn't comment.

"I never saw her try so hard or be so open with someone."

He still doesn't reply but she doesn't need him to. Everything is right. Elena is too happy with how things are going to be bothered by his stubborn silence.

It's not that he minds that she found someone, he thinks, not at all. He's happy for her, he's _ecstatic_, really, he insists in his mind as a knife twists and twists at the bottom of his stomach and he feels his gums itching with the violent desire to tear skin apart. It's the hand holding that's old fashioned and annoying and just plain wrong.

He probably touched way more than just her hand, because it's been three months, and she's so beautiful he can't even begin to explain, but the hand-holding pokes a spot that hurts enough that he can't ignore it.

It's just the stupid hand-holding, and the stupid years to get her to do that with him of her own will, and the fact that Oliver gets that even if he didn't die with her, and never fought to bring her back, and never spent a single minute arguing the life out of him to convince her to do the right thing _for her_ instead of putting the whole of freaking human kind ahead of her own life. Just that.

"I think they're gonna watch a movie," he hears Elena's voice slipping through his thoughts, "Probably _The Bodyguard_."

The knife slides up, slitting his chest in two like he's made of butter.

#

"Okay," he says, calmly, "I admit I didn't get the joke."

"I'm not joking Damon," she replies, turning around, her hair opening like a fan in the air. She's hurt that she's had to resort to this. She's hurt that she had to compromise her own pride but she has a right to ask that of him and she's not going to back down.

"That's good since it's not amusing at all. I would have hated to tell you that you suck at making jokes," he narrows his eyes, observing her hardened face. "Bon-Bon and I hardly see each other anymore." The thought of that being Bonnie's way to salvage his relationship makes him hate her sometimes. "And if we do there's always someone around," he protests, "I feel like I'm being chaperoned," he adds, grimacing, "So, I don't think there's any way to see her less then I already do."

"I-" she closes her eyes, her fists at her sides, before opening them again to continue, "I just… she's in every conversation. You call her all the time-"

"Just because she won't answer!" he reasons, exasperated, "And isn't she your best friend, too? I just try to make sure that she's alive."

"Maybe she doesn't answer because she doesn't _want_ to. Maybe you don't need to check on her every few hours like she's incapable of taking care of herself. Maybe you're only making me miss the time when she _wasn't _actually alive!"

He's stunned into silence. His eyes go wide, his mouth gapes and she realizes what she's just said.

Elena shakes her head, brings her hands to her temples to push back her hair. "That's not what I meant," she says.

"It isn't," he agrees, but his voice is doubtful and he looks at her like he doesn't know her anymore.

"Of course it isn't, you know I love her," she insists, "But I love you, too. I love you more than anything," she explains. "I turned against my friends and anyone that told me I was making the wrong choice, and I lost Stefan because of you and now you-"

"You didn't lose Stefan," he corrects her; "You _chose_ to leave Stefan. Stefan who loved you above anything else in his freaking existence. Stefan who sacrificed his chance at humanity so that you could have yours. _You_ _did_ _it_ and you can't speak to me like that's _my_ doing-"

"That's not what I'm saying!" she yells over his voice.

"Yes, that's exactly what you're saying," he contradicts her. "You're saying that because I've spent years pining after you and loving you blindly that I have to keep doing that, that I'm not allowed to love anything else besides you because otherwise you can't justify being _criticized_ by your friends or not having my brother anymore. Because if you don't have me consuming my sanity at the mere thought of you, then what's so special about being with me?"

"You're twisting my words," she says, crossing her arms over her chest like she's raising a wall against his accusations.

"And you're trying to twist my arm behind my back," he replies "I don't like it."

"I'm trying to get us back where we were before," she explains, her voice weak as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. It's like there's a _before Bonnie_ and an _after Bonnie_ period and she does not count at all.

"I don't feel loved," she confesses miserably, her eyes filling up with tears and the burning sensation of humiliation.

He can understand that; he felt that way all his life and he tried to force his way in so many times that he lost count. He can tell her from experience that it works, until it doesn't work anymore.

"I tried my hardest," he says, his face darkened by her words, and the implications behind them.

"It doesn't need to be like this," she says, shaking her head, "It can be like it was before. Remember?" she asks, smiling at the thought. "We were passionate and wild and we cared for nothing else," and no one else, "It was so beautiful, so consuming. Now, I feel like it's consuming only me," she explains bitterly.

"You're wrong," he says, slowly shaking his head, "It's consuming me, too," he adds, making her smile again; and yet, he sees nothing to smile for. "You're consuming me like you want to annul me for anything else. I feel like your freaking _main course_, to the point that I can barely see myself in the mirror anymore."

"That's not true!"

"It's not?" They silence their doubts and fill the hollow inside with sex and the relief lasts an hour, maybe two, and then they are at square one again. With her turning his head so he won't look away from her. Maybe if she pulls out his eyes, maybe if she pulls out his heart, maybe then it will be as it was once.

"We just have to not let anyone else come in between us," she insists, trying to sound reasonable.

"And by anyone else, you mean Bonnie," he says, tired.

"Yes."

Damon nods and she can feel the weight slowly lifting off her shoulders, but then he says, "There's so much space between us that the whole town would fit; and for you I could kill them all, _one by one_," he spells, his words making her lightheaded. "But not Bonnie," he adds, making the world crumble around her. "Anything else, I can give it up," he says, almost surprised himself by how easy it is to admit it, even in front of her.

She doesn't need to hear his answer when she yells after him asking, "Where are you going?"

Elena has long known where his heart was taking him.

_**fine**_


End file.
